I ate some bananas (B-A-N-A-N-A-S)
by Classy-Cookie-Princess
Summary: Our story starts a few months before the Amazing Spiderman when Peter and Deadpool meet for the first time, how will their relationship evolve? "I saw you walking and we all agree you are adorable, which is saying something because usually at least one of us disagrees... Anyway, I really need a damsel in distress for my plan so I saved your cute ass and now we're here" He smiled
1. Chapter 1

Events take place a few months before the Amazing Spiderman

Chapter 1

"It wasn't even me!" Peter Parker grumbled, cruising down the dark streets on his skateboard.

The sounds of New York were muffled by an icy breeze which blew through the trees making him to turn up his collar, shivering. By day the city was alive and bustling with people but by night only the brave venture from their homes in fear of what lurks in the shadows.

"I'm an A grade student, why would I blow up a freaking toilet?" Peter muttered to himself. "The look on Flash's face when I took the hit... What douche-bag."

A whirr of sirens grew steadily louder and Peter tensed, turning to watch three police cars screech past him at an alarming shielded his eyes from the bright lights before sighing and pulling out his phone.

"Aunt May and Uncle Ben are probably worried, this stupid phone is always dying."

He tapped the screen furiously and glared at it as if sheer will power could make it work again. It didn't.  
>To put it bluntly, Peter's day sucked. He slept through his alarm clock resulting in no breakfast and a late slip, then he had PE with Flash Thompson… the memory made him to roll his injured shoulder, at lunch he was tripped over and he broke his camera, again, got blamed for Flash's experiment with pyrotechnics, and finally landed in detention with Mr Stuart. Also it's bloody cold.<p>

Peter sat up off the floor nursing his newly injured knee, glaring at his skateboard as it rolled away innocently. Let's add getting thrown off his skateboard to that list.  
>He looked up as five more frantic police cars zoomed past in a blur.<p>

"What is going on?" He wondered.

He scanned the area, the only other living soul in the vicinity was a man strolling up the street on the opposite side heading in his direction. Peter winced at the thought of the man witnessing his crash. Stumbling to his feet and rubbing warmth back into his fingers, he jumped on his skateboard and ventured on.

Coasting at a fast pace across the pavement, the boy was 15 minutes from home when loud sirens once again pierced the silence of the night.  
>A sea of flashing red and blue lights came into focus and Peter curiously watched them as they flew past him, disrupting the leaves gathered on the ground and sending small animals scurrying. Peter gazed at the sight wistfully, wishing his camera wasn't broken but frowned when heavy footfalls were suddenly on his radar.<br>Waiting for the last car to pass, he listened again for the noise. The hairs on back of Peter's neck stood up as he heard a definitive set of footprints join with the first set of steps behind him. He glanced fearfully behind him, worried that perhaps Flash was meaning to finish what he started in PE, but his heart rate spiked when he caught sight of the two hunching figures walking barely 10 paces behind him.

"Peter, its fine, relax, they are probably just regular people." He repeated to himself softly, quickening his speed with his eyes trained on the asphalt in front of him and his ears straining to keep track of the step behind him.

He continued on at an panicked pace until a shadow loomed into view, shrouding the poor boy in a sinister darkness. Wide-eyed, Peter stamped his right foot on ground and skidded to a shaky stop, his heart pounding and his breaths shallow.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A voice cackled in front of him.

Peter looked up at the man who was wearing one of those white craft masks one would find the dollar store.

"Nice ride he's got, mind if i take it?" Sneered another.

Peter turned around quickly and his stomach dropped, there were two more figures, equally masked in cheap cardboard. Oh for the love of god, three of them? I didn't think this day could get any worse. The second one shoved him hard, causing him to stumble back, he spun on his heel and attempted to run but a hand grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him back harshly.

"Where do you think your goin'?" Second taunted and pushed him again threateningly, backing him further and further into the darkness of the alleyway.

Peter's heart rate doubled as his chances of escape shrunk with every passing moment.

"Okay kid you know the drill hand all them valuables over to Jack here." Demanded the second man, smirking.

"You weren't supposed to use my real name jackass!" Hissed the first.

Second dismissed the man called Jack with a wave of his hand. Peter could see him rolling his eyes from behind the small holes cut in the mask, but his focus instantly shifted as Jack pulled out a wicked looking knife from his belt. They all froze when the ally was momentarily lit up with blue and red as another police car skidded past.

"Why are there so many cops tonight?" One of them muttered

Peter's heart was in his throat,

[Please stop, please notice! I'm here! Look at me!] He silently begged.

Increasingly, he felt like a like a fly trapped in a spider's web waiting for a strong gust of wind to send him on his way. His lip trembled slightly as he closed his eyes briefly wishing that he had listened to his aunt and taken the train but tried to swallow his fear as he opened his eyes, stilled his lip and lifted his chin.

"Just leave me alone okay. I have nothing on me, I swear." Peter said in the bravest voice he could muster.

Jack chuckled "Ooooooh I'm so scared." He mocked, "Bag on the ground faggot."

"Takes one to know one." Peter bit back earning himself a punch in the face, the force knocked his head back against the wall and he stayed there dazed for a few moments, waiting for the stars in his vision to clear.

Jack grabbed the front of Peters shirt and his cronies jeered him on.

"NOW!" He barked.

Peter hastily compiled, pulling his backpack off his back and releasing it onto the pavement with stiff fingers. Immediately, Second hunched over the bag and began digging through it.

"Pockets too." He demanded with a crooked smile.

Peter hesitated,

"I know a great anger management place if you were looking..." He bit out.

He instantly regretted his mistake when he was roughly grabbed from behind, his arms were pulled behind his back and he had the gleaming blade pressed tightly against his throat.

"Pockets." He snarled, sending flecks of spit towards Peter's face and fogging up his glasses.

Hastily, Peter spilled the contents of his pockets into Jack's hand, flinching as Jack leaned in closer to peer at the assorted objects before moving the knife away from his neck with a displeased look on his face. Another couple police cars passed and they all froze, shrinking further back into the deep depths of the alley. Trying to ignore the hot, foul breath passing his ear, courtesy of the man holding him, Peter adjusted his stance slightly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Painfully aware of the tension building up in his arms, Peter shifted his eyes, constantly searching for an exit.

"Boss, the bag has nothin'; textbooks, broken old camera..." Second grunted, tossing objects behind him where they hit a garbage can and skidded to the ground.  
>Peter gritted his teeth, struggling not to do something that Uncle Ben would classify as stupid.<p>

"...and Pencils, this kid's flat broke not a cent on him- ARGH!" Second continued, ending with a cry of pain as Peter suddenly, as if reflexively, jerked his knee up and crashed it right into the kneeling man's jaw.

The moment of shock allowed Peter to wiggle his arms free of Third where he continued his escape by throwing his head back, colliding with his tormentor's nose and resulting in a satisfying crack. He too howled in pain and Peter freed himself completely, flailing clumsily and knocking Jack's mask off. As the shock wore off, Jack looked livid. His beady eyes widened in outrage and a vein on his forehead looked close to bursting. The man advanced savagely and Peter swung a sloppy punch which was easily dodged. Third grabbed him harshly by the hair from behind and with help from Second, the two men smashed him against the wall and pinned him there, grinning as his head lolled slightly at the impact. Peter's body pressed against Second's torso, his head bent back at a painful angle, groaning slightly.

"You little shit." Jack spat, smiling wickedly as he pressed the knife to his throat once again.

"Kill the turd Jack." Taunted Third, pulling his hair hard enough to rip out a few strands.

Peter could sense the rotting breath of his captor as it whistled out of his captors mask and passed his ear.

"Hey twinkle toes, you knocked off my mask, now I have to kill you... Guess this is the last face you'll ever see." Jack gibed.

Jack forced the knife harder onto Peter's throat, making a small trickle of blood appear at his neck, running down past his collar. Peter was trapped, as much as he tried, he couldn't move an inch. It was over... He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and tensed, waiting for the end.

A shot rang out into the night, echoing off the brick walls of the alley. Immediately, Peter felt the painful grip on his hair lessen and he stumbled slightly as the pressure pushing him into the wall slackened.

[Oh my god, I'm dead, I'm dead, they shot me! ...Wait where did the gun come from? I thought it was a knife? Where's the pain? What is happening!]

Peter snapped his eyes open in shock and watched frozen as the man, as if in slow motion, slumped to the ground, a look of shock plastered on his face as a pool of blood expanded in the centre of his forehead. Eyes wide, Peter and the two remaining men turned in unison to squint at the new-comer.

Standing at the entrance of the alleyway, framed by the light of a streetlamp was a man. He was tall and clad in red and black spandex, nonchalantly blowing the smoke off the barrel of his revolver.

"Didn't your mummy ever tell you not to bully cute little boys?" He quipped, holstering his gun. "Sh-Shaun?" Stammered Second, looking down at his dead friend in horror.

"Dead! Put a bullet through his head! Oooooh that rhymed..." Sang the man, advancing on the trio, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Second unceremoniously let go of Peters hair, letting loose strands flutter to the ground and backed away hurriedly, holding his hands up in surrender. Peters knees wouldn't hold his weight, his legs buckled and he crumpled to the pavement, immediately scooting back as far as the wall would let him and gazing up at the scene.

The newcomer's facial muscles contorted into a frown at the sight, his expression still recognisable despite the mask.

"Look, the poor things terrified." He sighed, heading towards Peter.

"Anthony, your knife!" Hissed Jack, holding up his own knife in defence as Anthony fumbled to pull out his own with shaky hands.

Peter's black and red clad hero laughed, batting it away easily and stepping forward to take hold of Anthony's head. In a quick movement he broke the man's neck with a sickening crack.

The man walked towards Peter who was currently on his third attempt of trying to stand, and knelt down to his level.

"People call me Deadpool, pretty sweet name, I know." He introduced holding out a hand which Peter hesitantly accepted. After being hauled to his feet, Peter's mouth formed an O as he looked past Deadpool's head.

"LOOK OU-" Deadpool twisted, landing a solid kick into Jack's crotch, who fell to the ground in pain.

Straightening up, he loomed over Jack menacingly before turning back to Peter and tilting his head slightly.

"Now, point out on the doll where the nasty man touched you." He suggested, fingering the katana's on his back.

Peter was holding onto the wall for dear life, tenderly touching his throat, and managed to stammer, "He didn't touch me..."

"Yeah I didn't touch him you homo." Jack spat, and in a flash, Deadpool had aimed a sharp kick to his stomach.

"I'm no HOMOSAPIEN!" He gasped, holding his hand to his chest in mock hurt.

Jack wheezed and rolled over onto his hands and knees before trying to stand up off the pavement, but deadpool lifted a foot lazily and stamped hard on his back causing him to collapse flat on his face. He then unleashed a barrage of powerful kicks to the man's head, mouth and ribs, each one receiving a pained grunt or moan from the fetal figure on the ground. Seemingly growing bored of the repetitive action, Deadpool stopped to scratch his nose deep in thought.  
>Suddenly, his arm reach back over his head and sliding a lethal katana from it's sheath, he placed it on one of Jack's shoulders, exclaiming,<p>

"I, Deadpool, knight thee, Ugly!" Moving the sword onto Jack's other trembling shoulder.

"Nighty night!" He sang and he swung his arm back expertly, preparing to administer the lethal blow.

"Wait!" Cried Peter, and the blade stopped an inch short of the man's neck.

Deadpool turned his head towards Peter in confusion.

"This dude tried to kill you…" He said slowly, trying to comprehend.

"But he didn't! I'm alive. See?" Peter urged.

He took a step towards Deadpool, holding out his hands and waving them around as if to prove his point.

"You saved me." He stated

"He beat you up! And.." Deadpool stopped as more police cars zoomed past.

"I'm kinda short on time right now kid" He sighed and swung the sword back up into the air, maintaining eye contact with Peter.

"Then just let him go okay? I'm fine, really we can all just walk away." Peter urged, his eyes flickered down and he grimaced, except those two.

Deadpool had an unreadable look on his face for a long moment until he swung the sword down sharply, slapping Jack on the backside with the flat side of the sword.

"Get out of here you little creep." He ordered and Jack hastily obeyed, stumbling to his feet and hot-footing it from the scene without looking back once.

Peter looked around at the scene before him. Two dead bodies, blood everywhere (some his own), his possessions were strewn across the newly made crime scene and he was standing in front of a lunatic in a spandex costume.

"So…. Uh… Thanks?" Said Peter slowly backing away, debating if he should risk gathering his things.

He just wanted to go home and sleep, no more trouble.

Deadpool looked up and shook off some unreadable thought, "Where do you think you're going kid?" He asked sheathing his katana and sauntering towards Peter.

"I… Uh…. You saved me… So I can go now, right? That's how the superhero thing works isn't it?" Peter managed, backing away further, cursing when he felt the cold brick wall behind him.

"What makes you think I'm a superhero?" Deadpool stopped in front of him, tilting his head and looked strangely at Peter.

"Uh… The costume? A-And the saving me thing?" Peter said warily.

Deadpool's arms snaked out and he braced himself against the wall resting his arms on either side of Peter's head. Peter eyes flickered in both direction's trying not to look directly at Deadpool, whose face was in startling close proximity.

"Oh kid, I'm no hero… But isn't it customary to give your saviour a kiss?" He questioned, moving his face towards the boy's.

Peters heart hammered in his chest and he shrunk back as far as he could, adrenaline muddling his brain.

Their lips were just centimetres apart when Deadpool quickly drew back laughing, "NAHHHHHHHH I'm just messing with ya." He grinned, cracking his neck and stepping back. Peters stomach dropped and he released his breath, not realising that he had been holding it.

[Is that disappointment? No… it can't be…] He shook the thought from his head furiously.

"But seriously now, I need to borrow you for something." Deadpool added in a more earnest tone.

"Borrow…?" Peter, began, but didn't finish as something clicked and he knew he wasn't going to get saved a second time. He moved quickly, attempting to duck under Deadpool's arm but wasn't fast enough as Deadpool trapped a hand on Peter's shoulder and pushed him back into the wall with minimal effort.

"No, no no! Okay sshhhh look kid! OW THATS MY SHIN! Oi stop!" Deadpool frowned, moving a gloved hand in annoyance to cover Peter's mouth, muffling his shouts for help.

Peter squinted in irritation up at the black and red clad man.

"Okay kid, here's the story, the popo are after my ass, like shooting me and stuff, rude I know! Anyway, I don't particularly like being shot." He paused, pondering his next sentence for a moment, "I kinda, sorta, maybe, slightly killed a man… Well um I mean, another man." He explained, turning slightly to review the carnage he had just created in the alley and smirking slightly at Peter's wide-eyed expression.

"He was a bad man mind you… But now they're all mad at me and I reeeeaaaallllly need a damsel in distress for my plan." He finished sweetly.

Peter struggled under his weight wondering how his night had become so much incredibly worse.

"I saw you walking and we all agree you are adorable, which is saying something because usually at least one of us disagrees... Plus! Good guys don't usually shoot damsels in distress, so I saved your cute ass and now we're here". He smiled reassuringly and before Peter could protest, he lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder.


	2. Yahtzee!

Chapter 2

Okay, being thrown upside down unexpectedly is a tiny bit disorientating, especially paired with having the breath knocked out of you by a solidly built shoulder. Dazed, Peter felt, rather than saw, powerful legs kick down a door and begin jogging effortfully up a fire escape.

"Sooooo kid what's your name?" chirped Deadpool.

Peter's glasses slipped down his nose and bounced threateningly on the tip.

"PUT ME DOWN!" He tried to yell, but it just came out as a wheeze.

"Put me down is a funny name." Replied Deadpool sarcastically, taking two steps at a time.

"I'm Deadpool, did I mention that? Yeah I did mention that, God, that's what I thought, shut up." He frowned.

"I didn't say anythi-" Peter started, craning his neck to try and get a look at Deadpool's face.

"I wasn't talking to you, shut up." Deadpool huffed.

Peter closed his eyes and tried not to think about how close his face was to his kidnappers backside as he attempted to push his glasses back up, only to have them slide back down again.

"It's Peter." He hissed in annoyance, realising all too late he had been tricked.

"Hmmmmm? Peter, cute name." Peter could hear the smile in the man's voice which only annoyed him more and he crossed his arms and huffed.

*BANG* Another door flew open and Peter felt Deadpool's pace steady as he walked on flat ground. He was just formulating a plan of attack when he was gently set down on a plastic chair before his assailant darted off, mapping the entry and exit points.

Fixing his glasses he swiveled around, noticing that they were in Forest Hills Mall. It was dark, which was to be expected at this time of night. However, Peter stared curiously at the window where the occasional spotlight passed briefly across it, illuminating shops and casting eerie shadows across the white tiles.

Peter's thoughts were interrupted by a sharp screeching sound and he twisted around to see Deadpool pushing a large sofa out of a shop and dragging it slowly in front of the fire escape. He then ran into another shop, grabbed an arm chair and placed it on the sofa, followed by a toaster, a fishbowl, a television, a barbecue, and a tiny hula girl on top.

Peter furrowed his brows in utter confusion at the man as he smiled at his handiwork, appraising the pile he had made and rubbing his hands together.

"What about the main entrance." Peter called from his seat a couple meters away, need to gives his 2 cents overwhelming the logical side of his brain.

"...Oh yeah, yeah I was yeah, getting to that." Deadpool answered, in a slightly flustered tone.

Closing his eyes, Peter began to wonder if this entire experience was just a figment of his imagination and he had cracked in the alley and gone mad. Furthering this theory was the sight that Peter was welcomed with when he opened his eyes again.

Deadpool was on the other side of the room, grunting and flailing behind the water fountain as he attempted to push it to the front doors.

"Hang on, I got this, almost there, it's gonna work." Deadpool puffed.

"It's connected to the floor, it's not going to move!" Informed Peter rolling his eyes and letting his head drop back in the chair.

Peeking his head out from around the fountain, Deadpool immediately stood up straight, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"Right uh yeah, that was totally a test, good job kid you passed." He claimed.

Deadpool shook his head slightly and sauntered up to a window, peering out at the rotating spotlight.

"I didn't expect the cops to get themselves together so quick." He muttered, but ducked back quickly as a barrage of bullets shattered the glass.

Peter let out a completely manly scream and slipped off his chair, falling flat on the ground. Deadpool looked over at the boy in amusement and bounced over to him like an over excited puppy. He sidled over to Peter, who was still lying on the floor and crouched down next to him, shaking his head.

"Relax princess you're wearing blue, they won't shoot unless they have an itchy trigger finger like me." He grinned, thrusting his hand in Peter's face to demonstrate the twitch of his index finger.

"Who are you?" Interjected Peter, knocking the hand out of his face with a scowl and rolling onto his back, propping himself up slightly.

"Awww don't be like that sunshine, and I already told you! I'm Deadpool" He beamed under the mask.

Peter's arm slipped dramatically and he fell flat again as a loud voice interrupted Deadpool's beaming.

"DEADPOOL, COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD, WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED." Crackled a voice over a megaphone.

Ignoring the command and standing up straight, Deadpool turned to Peter with his arms out, "See!? THEY know my name!" He exclaimed.

"Alrighty."

Peter started when he heard the voice behind him, realising that Deadpool wasn't in front of him anymore.

[Damn he moves fast]

Suddenly he felt two arms scoop under his shoulders and effortlessly haul him to his feet where he swayed, slightly unsteadily.

"Stay still princess or I might accidentally shoot you, and we wouldn't want that now, would we." Deadpool ordered, nudging him forward with his forearm.

Peter's breath picked up as he let the man usher him towards the window, leaning away slightly when he felt the cold barrel of a gun come to rest on his temple.

"HI TOM! I GOT A HOSTAGEEEEEEEEE!" Sang Deadpool tapping the barrel against Peter temple and slinging his arm around him like he was his best friend.

All spotlights instantly raced to illuminate their window and Peter raised an arm to shield his eyes against the blinding light. There were crackling noises and muffled arguing heard over the loudspeaker before an officer yelled, "DEADPOOL, LET THE BOY GO".

Once Peter's eyes had adjusted he gazed out into the crowd of at least 15 policemen and about 9 police cars. As far as he could tell, they had set up a perimeter around the building and many were busy keeping back a crowd of civilians.  
>Peter was blinded yet again as an even brighter light shone in his eyes and he groaned when he realised that it wasn't coming from the police, but from a news crew that had entered the scene.<p>

"Look mum I'm on TV!" Cheered Deadpool, waving his gun arm at the camera.

"DEADPOOL, IF YOU DO NOT LET THE BOY GO, WE WILL USE FORCE." The announced through the megaphone again.

Pressing the gun harder against Peter's head, Deadpool addressed the horrified onlookers.

"Nahhhh, I don't think you will! I gotta hostage! Smile for the camera Peter! You guys just sit tight out there will ya." Deadpool addressed the growing crowd, pulling back from the window and releasing his grasp on Peter.

"See, no harm done! ...Hungry?" Deadpool asked.

Peter turned to bite out a snarky reply but froze when he noticed Deadpool advancing on him with a sinisterly familiar blade. Peter soon recognised it as the blade that Jack had been using back in the alley and he felt his stomach drop.

[So he wanted to kill me after all…]

Deadpool stalked up to him but then kept walking and soon passed Peter, crouching down to wedge the knife under a roller door and using it as a lever to pry it open.

"Yahtzee!" Deadpool exclaimed before lifting the door of a candy store, his mask creasing as he smiled to himself proudly.

"So you've never heard of Deadpool huh kid?" He inquired, shuffling around the candy store and filling up a bag.

"Uh no… Sorry, I can't say I have." Peter admitted.

"Well… Some people know me as…" He began, getting up on top of a chair and opening his arms out.

"THE MERC WITH A MOUTH." He boomed, turning his head slightly to watch for Peter's reaction.

"Um yeah, no sorry I don't know that one either". Said Peter, grimacing, idly rubbing a sore spot on his arm.

Deadpool, somewhat deflated, hopped off the chair and continued shoving candy in his back, muttering under his breath.

"Whatever kid, get with the times… I do the jobs that rich people don't wanna get their hands dirty with." He dug through a tub of jelly beans, throwing his head back and lifting the mask up to pop them in his mouth.

Peter craned his neck to see the man's face but before he could even catch a glimpse, the mask was promptly pulled down again.

"Here." Deadpool chucked him a bag of chips, which Peter fumbled to catch.

He looked at the bag sceptically. Deadpool shrugged and went off to go break into another shop, Peter watched as he pulled out the knife again to use as leverage but he noticeably changed his mind and kicked a hole through the door instead, returning with his arms full a few moments later.

Walking over to Peter with an unreadable look on his face, he dropped the assorted objects on the floor and stopped, just close enough to Peter to be an invasion of personal space. Enough to make Peter rethink the comfortable atmosphere he had been letting himself settle into.

Peter's discomfort increased when Deadpool shuffled that tiny bit closer, now making the distance between the two barely a couple inches. Peter only came up to deadpools chin resulting in him having to look up at his assailant. The merc frowned tilting his head surveying Peter like a hawk would his prey.

Suddenly, closing the distance with a sharp movement, Deadpool shoved his hands onto Peter's shoulders and pushed the boy down onto his knees in front of him.

"Wha-" cried out in shock, wide eyed and verging on panicked as he landed hard on his knees face level with his kidnappers crotch.

"Huh? OH! Get your mind out of the gutter kid, wow." Deadpool interrupted quickly, bending down and joining Peter on the floor with his legs crossed.

"Here, take a pillow ya nympho." He pulled two pillows out of the pile he had brought over and pushed one towards Peter before shifting his position and sitting on the other one.

He then grabbed a towel and a first aid kit, looking over at Peter who was staring at him warily.

"Look kid… I can't have my hostage bleeding out on me can I? It's the least I can do, the coppers are probably gonna think I did this to you anyway." He sighed.

Peter nodded slowly and Deadpool grabbed a wet towel and started dabbing softly at the blood on his face.

"Wow they got you good sweet cheeks." He observed as he cleaned up a particularly nasty looking cut on peters cheek, it stung but peter ignored it.

Deadpool began chatting away, telling a story about a man called Bob, a stray lawnmower, three cats, and a bottle of vinegar.

Peter made a point to look anywhere but at Deadpool and settled with surveying the room, eyes always darting back to the camera shop situated on his right. Sadness flooded him when the mental image of his beloved camera lying hopelessly broken in the alley washed over him. He looked away, eyes scanning past more useful stores until his eyes landed on a gun. Deadpool had placed his revolver on the chair that Peter had been sitting on previously and he didn't seem to notice Peter's staring. Peter looked down as an undoubtedly stupid plan began to form in his mind.

[If I just grab the gun, I could walk out the front door and I would just let Deadpool leave his own way, no hard done, then we would be square. Easy…]

Minutes passed before Peter saw his opportunity, Deadpool turned away to grab some more supplies and Peter moved instantly. He lunged to the right, legs screaming in protest at the sudden movement as he launched his body to the side and snatched the gun off the lonely seat, landing hard on his side and scrambling to his feet.

"And THEN! Get this... THE CAT- oh." Deadpool stopped mid sentence when he looked up to see Peter standing up with the gun held straight in front of him with trembling arms.

Looking somewhat amused, Deadpool suddenly collapsed on the floor and raised his arms above his head in surrender.

"Oh my goodness! No, please! Don't kill me! I'm just a pawn… HE made me do it!" Deadpool whined and pointed fearfully at the plastic Ronald McDonald figurine standing outside a shop on the other side of the room.

Peter looked over briefly and blinked, deepening his frown when he looked back to see Deadpool snickering.

"Let. Me. Go." Peter said slowly, enunciating each word carefully and, as bravely as he could, training the gun on Deadpool's head.

To be honest, Peter didnt know how to use a gun, but his target didn't know that and he wasn't too keen on letting him find out, so he put on a brave face and steadied his arm as much as possible.

A range of emotions crossed the Merc's face in quick succession finishing with weariness as he planned his next move. Slowly the man raised his arms,

"Don't shoot, seriously this time." He said gravely, slowly rising to his feet.

Peter stumbled back, quickly putting distance between them,

"Don't come any closer." He ordered, and was proud to find his voice didn't waver.

"Peter, put the gun down, I don't plan to hurt you, we are just going to have an impromptu sleepover while I try to bargain my buddy out of jail. He's been wrongly imprisoned for 30 years because of me and I owe him a lot Peter... I don't have many friends." Deadpool explained, muttering the last part of the sentence sadly.

Something in Peter jumped every time the man uttered his name.

"His mother's dying of cancer and his dog's blind with three legs and is also dying from a tumor. Also his father is sleeping with the housemaid, who turns out to be his actual mother... Funny story that."

Deadpool's pace began to pick up.

"His mother, who isn't really his mother, is just faking cancer to get out of her marriage to her husband who is cheating on her with the maid. His sister suddenly showed up pregnant with his father's arch enemy's son AND JESSICA BROKE UP WITH DAVID AND I CRIED FOR THREE DAYS STRAIGHT- Wait isn't that that Mexican soap opera I was watching?"

"JUST KIDDING!" He grinned.

In a flash Deadpool sprinted forward and slapped the gun out of Peter's hand where it hit the ground and slid a couple meters away.

The boy made move to chase after the gun but before he could, Deadpool caught his wrist.

"Nice try kid, but fo' reals, my mate's one of the good guys and I need to get him out". He said earnestly, shrugging slightly.

Peter looked up from the hand on his wrist to Deadpool's face in shock, meeting his eyes, which held a certain passivity, and swallowed a lump in his throat.

[Maybe just chilling in here for one night won't hurt? Will it?]

As a child Peter, like many children, had fantasised about breaking into the mall at night and wreaking havoc on all the stores. The child inside Peter at that point had definitely woken up and and there was a hint of glee behind his pensive demeanor.

"Okay... Just one night." Peter sighed, and gasped when Deadpool released his wrist and pulled him into a tight hug, thrusting Peter's face just inches from the handles of his katana's.

"U da best!" He beamed, clapping him on the back and squeezing him.

[I hope I'm making the right choice]

Peter sighed worriedly, looking past his kidnappers broad shoulder to the sea of flashing lights below.


	3. Chapter 3

"_Hello I am Julia Nightingale here with breaking news, Forest Hills mall has been taken by siege singlehandedly by an unnamed mutant." _Crackled the radio Deadpool had set down next to the other supplies.

He scoffed at 'unnamed mutant'.

"_We have just got word that he has a hostage! A high school boy! We will let you know when we know more."  
><em>  
>Deadpool switched off the radio, rolled over on his belly, pulled out a piece of paper and began scrawling on it in red crayon. Peter curiously tried to look over the man's shoulder at the scribble but Deadpool shuffled a bit and hunched over to obscure his view. Peter huffed, repositioning the pillow and dropped his head back down, unfortunately missing the pillow and hitting the ground with a loud clunk.<p>

Pain shot through his skull and he groaned, squinting at the man in red and black, ready to counter whatever snarky remark he may have, but it seemed he was too engrossed in his actions to notice Peter's embarrassment.

Peter stared up at the tall, white ceiling, ignoring the throbbing in his head and listening to Deadpool's mutterings.

"Yes. No. NOT A POTATO!" The scratching of crayon on paper was starting to irritate Peter, coupled with the shouts of the policemen outside and the murmur of voices from the stately growing crowd.

Peter's stomach growled and he stared at the bag of chips longingly but refused to give in, shaking his head and turning over, trying to block out the noise by pulling his pillow over his ears.

Minutes passed uneventfully until there was an electrical clicking and the lights in the mall flickered to life. For the umpteenth time Peter shielded his eyes from the bright light and looked over to Deadpool for an explanation but Deadpool didn't even seem to notice as he continued his muttering.

Suddenly, a new sound rang out into the mall.

*PING*

The sudden high pitched noise made Peter sit up quickly and he shifted his attention to the lift on the far left as the numbers lit up one by one, signalling it's slow ascent to their level.

Peter held his breath and slid back warily from the entrance to the elevator.

[Why isn't he bothered by the lift? Maybe it's a friend of his, oh god not another one… Maybe it's the police? Maybe I don't have to stay here after all?]

Gathering his courage, Peter decided to speak up, but just as he was about to say something Deadpool's head shot up and he sat up straight, crossing his legs and smiling to himself with a proud, "DONE!".

As he said this, his obnoxious exclamation masked the ping of the lift as it came to a stop at their level.

Peter eyed the lift anxiously, glancing at the seemingly oblivious merc.

Deadpool jumped to his feet, facing away from the lift and held the paper at arms length, looking at it proudly and nodding his head in appreciation.

Getting more and more nervous as the seconds ticked by, Peter wet his lips with his tongue and glanced back and forth between Deadpool and the doors of the lift.

Peter's eyes widened as the metal doors slid open painstakingly slow and he blinked in shock as three men in heavy SWAT gear, sporting AK-47's spilled out.

Peter stood up in shock, spurred into action by the new events, but once he was on his feet he didn't know what to do and just stared at the men dumbly.

Immediately, the three men took up a triangular position and knelt down, training their guns on the 'merc with a mouth'.

Peter opened his mouth unsurely but quickly snapped it shut when the front man waved his hands at Peter, motioning him to stay down before bringing a finger to his lips and looking pointedly at Deadpool.

Still seemingly oblivious, Deadpool reached casually into a compartment on his belt, pulled something out, and chucked it effortlessly behind him with a yawn.

The SWAT team gasped in unison and scurried backwards into the lift while one frantically slammed the 'close door' button and the other two men stared horrified at the object hurtling towards them.

The doors closed with a clang but were moments too late as the grenade skidded through them just as the *ping* sounded.

Peter snapped his head towards Deadpool and froze when he saw the man placing two finger delicately into his ears.

An ear splitting explosion ripped through the Mall and Peter instinctively buried his face into his elbows as a rush of heat washed over him. Peter could feel the heat blow against every part of his body like a shockwave, he could see the bright colours of the boom behind his closed eyes, he could hear the crackling of the fire, and the sulfurous smell invading his nostrils caused his to choke and curl his body tighter into the fetal position he had assumed.

He slowly unfurled himself, sitting up slowly and patting himself down, checking that his limbs were all still intact. His vision cleared but there was a loud ringing in his ears that muffled everything around him as if he was underwater. The plaster falling from the roof made soft thumps as they hit the ground, the pieces of glass tumbling to the floor were tinkling lightly, the circuits travelling up the baron elevator shaft crackled faintly and the shouts of the crowd outside sounded like quiet murmuring.

Peter looked around at the carnage with wide eyes, the food court was a mess, the windows bordering the shops were shattered and empty frames now lined the Mall, pieces of the ceiling were falling periodically and Deadpool was sitting in the middle of it with his legs crossed pointing at his piece of paper.

Deadpool over to Peter, beckoning him to come closer and saying something that Peter couldn't quite understand.

"Mey - ay so ere is me - is oo. ese are e meen ops and this is me with you in the mall! This is my friend in jail and this is the Police letting him out! Seeee!" Deadpool explained gleefully, bouncing his knee like an excited toddler.

Peter shook his head to clear it and peered down at paper; a crude juvenile comical drawing of their current situation and his demands. Peter blinked in embarrassment when he saw his own depiction holding hands with Deadpool.

Before he could look at it closer Deadpool pulled it back and laid it flat on the ground, flattening out the creases before folding it nimbly into a neat, crisp paper plane. He pulled out a long thin blade and grabbed a role of sticky tape, motioning to tape it to the plane before Peter stopped him.

"Don't". He asserted, putting a hand firmly on the man's forearm.

"Awwww Peter baby, you're no funn!" Pouted the man, but complied, sheathing his blade before standing up and walking towards the window where he tossed it out, giggling as it glided down to the furious policemen.


End file.
